JENNIFER CAMPBELL

The Dresser

Cloudy crystal ashtray
perched on the left corner,
a few stubs marking the morning
routine. Long ivory runner in need
of a shake—still, I loved the squeak
and clack of perfume bottles
being slid and set down
on the glass tray, warm jasmine
and ylang-ylang that stuck
to the wrist for hours, the slow tug
of velvet drawers stuffed
with rings, thin gold bracelets,
costume necklaces that jangled
but never past the point
of being tasteful, and the boxes
layered in rows, housing
select diamonds and gems,
certificates of authenticity tucked
into the back, stones imported
from the Caribbean, from Europe.
My mother never pushed
her love of yellow gold, saw my eyes
retracing the blue clouds
of larimar, stone of the sea,
and filed that away as my favorite,
returning from island trips
with oval studs, square-stoned
bracelet, large teardrop pendant
on a slim silver braid.
Every black felt bag of treasure
lifted me, her approval passing over,
light clouds above the turquoise sea.

Jennifer Campbell is a writing professor in Buffalo, NY, USA, and served for nearly 20 years as a co-editor of Earth’s Daughters. She is the author of Supposed to Love (Saddle Road Press), Driving Straight Through (FootHills), and a chapbook of reconstituted fairytale poems titled What Came First (Dancing Girl Press, 2021). Jennifer’s work has recently appeared in Slipstream and Healing Muse, and is forthcoming in Pennsylvania English and Timberline Review.